


Danger Never Sleeps

by TheMaxBurger9



Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Also bad guys really hate spiderman, Attempted suspense, Chapters 1 and 2 will be going through a rewrite, Did I disable the comments by accident?, Drama, Gen, More characters to come, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2019-10-24 22:54:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17713208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMaxBurger9/pseuds/TheMaxBurger9
Summary: Miles has been the one and only Spider-Man for the past seven months since the ultimate arrest of Kingpin. But nothing has prepared him for a conspiracy that could spiral New York out of control. With dangerous foes, old and new, out for a piece of New York, Miles is put to a test where he must decide between family and his role as the Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man.After all, Danger Never Sleeps.





	1. Chapter 1

The streets of New York buzzed with activity, mostly during the morning. Pedestrians passed by with coffee cups and bags occupying every body part. Commuters passed by in either a taxi or in a car. This mostly lasted until the clock struck twelve in the afternoon.

The streets around the bank in Manhattan were mostly empty. A few moments have passed and shortly, a black Ford and an orange Mitsubishi both with blackened rims approached the side of the bank and parked beside the curb.

The doors opened and a group of men got out, all wearing casual jackets, jeans, boots with hard knuckle gloves and creepy masks. All of them had vests underneath their jackets.

Four of them grabbed a duffel bag each from the Mitsubishi, two stayed in the cars and the rest walked up the stairs, carrying rifles with attachments before running towards the entrance.

Inside the bank were people either waiting at the lounge or standing in front of the teller counters. Classical music was mostly what was playing from the speakers. In just a second, the doors were busted open and the men fired at the ceiling, yelling orders and drowning out the music.

“HANDS IN THE AIR! THIS IS A ROBBERY!”

People inside screamed and shrieked in terror as they were pushed to the ground. Bank tellers were pulled out of their counters and security guards were subdued. They were then secured with cable ties behind their backs as well as every single person inside. All done in just a minute. As the gunmen gathered the rounded up would-be hostages in a line against the wall, one of them pulled out a drill and set it in the gate’s lock. The drill sawed it’s way inside the lock and a few seconds later, there was a loud pop and the gunman placed the drill back in the bag and headed for the vault downstairs with the other three following.

One of the gunmen took a cuffed security guard away and disappeared into a security room upstairs. The lone gunman at the lounge held his weapon in front of the terrified hostages, whimpering and trembling in fear.

Four of them that went downstairs approached a large vault with a four-digit security lock. Instead of taking the drill, one of them pulled out a small device and hovered it in front of the lock. Not a second later, the vault opened. Inside were trolleys stacked with piles of money with bands tied neatly. They hastily packed the notes into the bags. Shortly, all of the trolleys were emptied and the gunmen ran out of the vault, heaving heavily filled bags.

The gunmen headed out to the lounge where they regrouped with the others. The gunman that went into the security room had just come out.

“We got what we came for, let’s get outta here!”

The gunmen eventually backed their way out of the bank with some aiming at the hostages for a brief moment before catching up with their comrades. They ran out of the bank and headed to their vehicles.

They dumped their duffel bags into the boot of the orange car and hopped in, taking off and away from the scene. However, they didn’t take notice of Miles watching them from a building above with his mask half on, slurping on the straw of a McDonalds cup on his right hand and an almost finished burger on his left.

Miles didn’t mind another day catching robbers this week.

He quickly munched down his burger, dumped them into the paper bag and pulled on his mask. Webbing the bag to the wall, he leaped off the building and went after the robbers. Hopefully he could remember this building so he can get back and throw it away.

He swung near Central Park, embracing the autumn trees and the chilling breeze. Miles also noticed how much he’s improved with his web-swinging for the past few months. As those months went by, Miles was confident in using his normal voice instead of his lowered accent which was quite straining for him. As long as he doesn't say it near his dad. Brushing through the commuting traffic, he immersed himself in the scent of the brown leaves and the strong wind.

As he followed the cars through Midtown, the robbers’ getaway cars started to speed up at the point where they’re driving erratically through traffic, narrowingly missing oncoming vehicles and honking their horn.

Hopefully those guys got a license for those cars.

He slowly started catching up, weaving through even more blocks and running on the sides of buildings. The robbers continued to cause chaos as they sped past oncoming traffic and ventured onto the wrong side of the road, near-missing everything in front of them. This caused several car accidents thanks to them.

By the time he chased them to the Times Square, Miles’ senses went off as if a loud airplane was diving straight at him. He squinted to notice one of the robbers in the black car out of the window holding something directed at him. It didn’t take him long to realize it wasn’t a bag.

He let go of the webs and tried the dodging trick Peter taught him.

Unfortunately, Miles lost control and cursed as soon as the gun went off, firing automatic rounds at him. It was really loud for him to focus and loud enough to cause even further panic with almost everybody in Times Square to scramble away. Even traffic started driving like crazy while some just got out and bolted.

Miles dropped onto the ground, running past traffic after traffic. He hopped onto a taxi before going for a RedEx van nearby. Miles jumped off and swung after the robbers. He managed to get a glimpse of the robbers taking a corner to the right, with the black car bumping into a parked taxi before speeding off.

After what felt like an hour, Miles started to get closer to the robbers and targeted the black car. He shot a web and pulled himself on top of the roof. Sticking onto the roof, he leaned forward and peeked at the windscreen.

“I’m gonna need to see those-”

The robbers aimed their guns at Miles without hesitation and fired. He immediately flipped away from the window. At least he managed to get a brief view of the robbers. They seemed to have really creepy looking masks. Miles suddenly felt loud noises below him and slipped off the roof, holding onto the side as shots fired through the top of the car.

He jumped off the side and flipped over the roof, changing spots. Miles turned invisible and hung onto the other side of the car. He noticed a barrel of one of the robber’s gun poke out. Grabbing the barrel with his free hand, Miles pulled it off him. It literally felt like throwing a wooden stick now. The robber was also edged out of the window, almost in the verge of falling off.

Miles tugged onto the robber’s collar and pulled him out of the car, webbing him up and hooking the string onto a nearby lamppost. As soon as he got back on track, there was loud screeching tires and Miles was suddenly thrown off the roof. The car he was on crashed into another car, hitting a truck as well. The collision caused a pileup and Miles was no longer invisible by the time he flew into the air.

He flew over two vehicles crashing head-on and landed with a thud. Shortly, the orange car hit the brakes and skidded between two crashed vehicles before coming to a stop. Miles lifted himself up and looked at the scene. The road had been completely cut off with vehicles scattered around. The rest of the traffic was a few feet away, honking on.

Shortly, Miles’ senses went off like a fire alarm and he looked through the pileup. All of the robbers were out of their cars, approaching him with weapons aimed at him. They opened fire and Miles leaped away. Everywhere around him, the crowd started backing away, shrieking and commuting cars becoming dumped and abandoned.

He landed on a lamp post and targeted one of the robbers nearby. He shot both webs near the robber’s side and went for the shot. Miles kicked him in the chest, knocking him out cold. He dived forward as another robber came after him, shooting at him as well. Miles aimed and shot a web at the robber’s chest who was shooting at him. He pulled him forward and kneed him in the face, before webbing him to the road.

“Find that spider-kid! He can’t be far!”

Miles stood up and noticed three robbers approaching him. He turned invisible again and snuck around them. The robbers seem to have really large weapons which he doesn’t normally see on typical robbers. They even look like they were well trained, like coming out of the army.

“Spread out!” He heard one of the robbers bark.

Miles stepped a little bit closer towards the robbers and stopped when he heard a crack from below. He looked down and noticed his foot on top of an empty soda can. He also blinked out of invisibility, leaving him standing right next to them. They spun towards him and fired.

He jumped over the oncoming bullets and managed to web up one of the robbers. With him tied up, Miles shot another web at him and threw him onto another robber. His senses went off behind him and he did a backflip, dodging another line of bullets. Miles landed behind the confused robber.

The robber who appeared to look muscular turned around and aimed, only for Miles to yank the gun off him with a web shot. The gun also flew right into a robber’s face who appeared to have gotten off the other. The robber started throwing punches, which Miles easily avoided. He dodged his right punch and kicked his side. Miles shot a web at his face and leaped off the side of the car, finishing him off with a spinning heel.

Miles’ senses went off again and it was close. He flipped to the side as another robber fired before yanking his gun off him and webbing him against the orange car. Miles heard footsteps from behind and spun around to the sight of a robber trying to sneak up on him. He ducked and slid between his legs just as the robber fired, almost hitting the webbed up robber. By the time the robber turned around, Miles disappeared. He looked around, confused as he aimed the handgun across the deserted road.

“Where the hell’d he go?” The robber yelled to no response.

The robber spun around aimlessly, muttering curses and aiming at absolutely nowhere before all of a sudden, he felt something blow past him and turned around. Before he could comprehend, Miles punched his chest and a burst of his venom blast sent a shockwave towards the robber’s body. There was a crackle and a snap before the robber was flown off and slammed against a van, leaving a large dent on the side.

There was no noise other than car alarms and sirens afterwards. Miles went up to the orange car to check on what they stole. He managed to find four bags crammed together inside the boot with some notes poking out of the zip.

“You have any idea who you messing with, kid?”

The voice caught Miles’ attention. Not the threat but the fact that the robber’s mask made him sound like a blue Muppet. Miles stepped away from the bags and approached the robber webbed up to the front of the orange car.

“Sorry, didn’t catch that.” He said, pulling the mask off the robber. 

The robber let out a sharp breath. The appearance gave Miles the first impression of a typical bad guy - faded cut, large tattoo on his cheek and a goatee.

“You have any idea who our boss is?”

“Hm, let me guess,” Miles replied, lifting a finger and tilting his head. “Kingpin? Sorry, mister but he’s in jail right now for an indefinite time so you probably gonna have to think of something else.”

“He’s not the only one, you know.”

Miles looked back, curious. “Really? And who is he again?”

“Not ‘he’.”

Miles was starting to get real curious on what this robber’s going on about.

“‘She’? ‘They’? Is it some sort of cult thing, like The Walking Dead? Something like that?”

The robber let out a short chuckle, finding the young Spider-Man amusing. “You know, you can’t just swing around town in that spandex suit of yours, beating up bad guys and making yourself look like a hero. Sometimes, you gotta think about who they are and what they’re capable of. You might never know if they’re out there looking for you.”

“Well, I can’t let these powers go to waste,” Miles replied. “Or have bad guys running around hurting innocent people. That’s why I became Spider-Man, well how I became Spider-Man. If these guys are this bad, then I need to know who they are.”

"Why's that important to you?"

“So I can stop them.”

“Stop them?” The robber repeated before bursting into laughter. “You must’ve lost your goddamn mind, kid. These guys aren’t who you think they are. Like I said, you can’t just go around messing with people you don’t know!”

“Well, I can't just stand by and let these guys continue on, doing dangerous stuff,” Miles snapped. “Hear this, you tell me who these guys are or at least a name. I’ll *maybe* let you go.”

“No goddamn way. They’ll slit my throat off, one way or another.”

“Or I can just leave you to the police and your boss so they can both deal with ya,” Miles added. “Neither of them are any good. Your choice.”

The robber scowled at him, considering for a moment. Miles felt his fingers twitch as the flowy silence filled the empty street.

After a minute of pause, the robber closed his eyes and sighed through his teeth. He reopened them shortly. Miles heard him curse under his breath.

“They’re-they call themselves The Hand,” He reluctantly said. “They’re basically the Yakuza of New York.”

“Yerr-kew-zur?” Miles repeated, scrunching his face underneath his mask. He had a bit of trouble pronouncing the word. “What's that?”

The robber ignored his question. “They operate across the US and globally. Mostly in Japan. They go by some sort of warrior code thing and it ain’t pretty. These gentlemen take their duties very seriously. I don't know where they come from but these guys aren’t your typical gang. They literally, I mean literally, come out from the shadows.”

“So what does that make you guys?” Miles asked, pointing at his face. “From what I’m hearing, you guys don't look the part.”

“We’re just an organization for hire. We’re ex-soldiers. Those guys paid us to rob this bank for some project of theirs.”

Miles was about to comment about the fact that he was a soldier but was focused on that last thing he said.

“Project? What project?”

“It’s best that you don’t get involved. They don’t take kindly to people interfering with their business, especially someone like you.”

Before Miles could ask more, he turned to the faint sounds of police sirens from a distance and looked back at the robber. Miles turned around and dashed off.

“Hey, I did what you said! You’re gonna let me go or what?” The robber called.

Miles stopped in his tracks and looked back at him. “Oh right, about that. Those will dissolve in two hours.”

He spun around and swung away from the scene, just as the police arrived. Miles peered behind his shoulder, catching the robber surrounded by police officers from a distance. As he retraced his steps to the building, he thought about what the robber said. He never heard about that Hand gang but based on what the robber said, they could be dangerous and not something a young kid like him would get involved. However, in the back of his head, Miles still believed something had to be done. He is the new Spider-Man, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miles meets a close friend of his, the Maggia lay low and a cop breaks the law.

Hammerhead blew a puff of smoke through his narrow lips before putting the cigar back in. The office reeked of smoke but looked as if it was recently refurbished. The red striped paint stared across him and the rearranged furniture.

Sitting on the couch with him were his trusted men, also lifelong friends. They were tough-looking, ranging around their 30s to 40s. Hammerhead, on the other hand, had a large square forehead with wrinkles and scars creased permanently, hence his nickname, Hammerhead. He mainly wore a navy pinstripe suit with his tie tucked into his blazer pocket, making him stand out the most.

They were watching a news report of their men recently defeated by the one and only Spider-Man. Photos of their men were flashed in front of them, one by one. Hammerhead clenched his fist at the sight of the masked fighter.

“Spider-Man,” Hammerhead growled. He had a typical Italian American voice like a Godfather. “How am I not surprised.”

He stood up and paced across the room.

“Look at him,” Hammerhead said, pointing at the screen. “Thinks he can go around town fucking with people like they ain’t a big deal!”

“I would like a piece of this ass if I ever meet him. Blow his face off with my shotgun.” Hammerhead’s Dominican friend muttered, chewing on the end of his cigarette.

“Yeah, good luck with that, Ox,” his friend with brown slicked hair and tattoo sleeves on each arm replied. “This kid’s really small and agile. You don’t stand a chance. Not to mention, he’s fast as hell.”

“You’re fast as well, Fancy Dan. You could literally kick his ass when he ain’t looking.”

Another friend of his with black spiky hair butted in. “I gotta admit, his suit is pretty sick. But still, you sure we can trust those Hand guys, Hammerhead? We’ve just lost Kingpin and several of our men thanks to this Spider-Man. Their offer seems a bit too enticing, don’t ya think?”

“I have my doubts, Hoblin,” Hammerhead said. “Kingpin and I used to be good buddies. We built an empire together but I didn’t take part on that Collider thing so I ain’t taking it easy on those Japs yet.”

“Does getting your ass yelled at count as buddies?” Hoblin retorted.

He tugged on the collar of his white shirt and took the cigar out of his mouth. Hammerhead tilted his head towards another friend of his at the corner of the couch, doing tricks with a coin. For some reason, he wore a black mask with red spots that covered his eyes. 

“Yo, Scarlet,” Hammerhead called, grabbing his friend’s attention. “You’ve been quiet for a while, man. You got something to say for the new Spider-Man?”

Hammerhead’s friends turned around and looked at Scarlet, awaiting an answer. He flipped the coin and caught it, slipping it into his jacket.

“What's that?”

“What’s your take on that Spider kid?” Fancy Dan asked.

Scarlet shrugged. “I don’t really have one.”

“Really?” Ox said. “I thought you may have something to say against him.”

“I mean, I do but...I don’t know.”

“No need to explain,” Hammerhead said. “Me and the team understand. Is that right, guys?”

The gang slowly nodded except Scarlet.

“So what happens next? The money they were supposed to retrieve probably got seized by now.” Hoblin asked.

“No idea,” Hammerhead replied. “For now, we stay low and keep our heads down until everything dies out. Gonna have to tell the Hand guys about this.”

“It’s kinda easy for them to do it themselves. They did say they come from the shadows.” Fancy Dan suggested.

Hammerhead chuckled. “Yeah. Go tell ‘em that. They'll turn you into a tool for that project of theirs.”

The team stood in silence while the TV stayed on.

“Well,” Hammerhead slipped the cigar back into his mouth. “I’m gonna go shoot some shit. You guys have fun.”

The team continued watching the TV while Hammerhead left the room and closed the door behind him. 

* * *

As Miles went down the stairs, his left foot stepped onto a loose shoelace. He tripped over, cursing but managed to balance himself midway and landed on his two feet.

“Dude, you gotta tie those shoelaces,” Ganke Lee said, following him from behind. “You’re gonna fall walking around like that.” 

Miles adjusted his bag and looked down at his shoes. “It’s a choice, man. I can get used to it.”

Ganke shrugged. “Whatever suits your needs, bro.”

Together, they walked past fellow students standing at the hallway next to their lockers. It was the last period of Monday and students were most eager for the end of the day. They both got to their respective lockers for their books, which surprisingly was next to each other.

“So, about that robbery yesterday.” Ganke said.

“Shoot.” Miles replied.

“Was that guy for real? The guy that told you about the robbery?”

“Eh, I dunno,” Miles muttered as he dumped his textbook into his bag. “He did say they were some former army guys paid to rob the bank by some group called The Hand. Said they were dangerous.”

“But what if he was just bluffing?”

That was a question Miles wanted to think about.

“Maybe he was trying to scare you?” Ganke continued, adjusting his glasses. “Maybe those Hand dudes might be just a bunch of random gangsters? That's pretty much how every single gangster in New York tries to get away from a crime.”

Miles was about to reply when they noticed another student appear next to them. They both went quiet, pretending to shuffle through the locker as the student packed his own books. He was another Asian kid like Ganke but he was slightly taller, slimmer and cooler than him. Acne spread around his face, however. The kid didn’t pay much attention to Miles or Ganke fortunately. Shortly, he turned away and left, leaving them alone despite a crowd around them.

“I'll think about it.” Miles finally said.

They eventually decided to leave it for another time and headed off to class with the bell blaring through the hall in response. Miles ran past the now crowded hallway as he made a dash to Physics class. 

* * *

He said he would do the job. That was enough to convince them.

Officer Perry Lance was no stranger to the city branch of the PDNY. They know him as well as every other officer would. But he would never know why he even got roped into this mess. Lance knew stealing would be a dishonest thing a man could do but stealing the timetable for the oncoming police escort for that mysterious gang from the shadows? That takes the cake.

He would arrive at the station, bring in his coat and walk in with a confident persona. That was his normal routine. His friends knew that. Today, he did his routine. Enter the lobby, greet the receptionist, with an exception of a forced smile and look for cases. Done. Then, he went into the offices.

First things first, coffee. Yes, that could set his mind at ease and calm things down. Maybe get his thinking caps working properly.

The coffee was black with no sugar cubes or anything sweet. Lance gulped the whole mug without a thought. Something bitter jabbed his throat and he placed a hand near his larynx, squeezing it. Lance coughed heavily and set the mug aside. The coffee wasn’t enough to calm him down, it only made him tenser than usual. He hastily made his way out of the kitchen and headed to his desk, bumping into several fellow officers.

Slumping into his chair, he got out his phone and searched for the message. Scrolling down, Lance found the message and tapped on it. In front of him were bold texts with all caps, written:

**PHYSICAL COPY OF TIMETABLE. MEET AT THE PARKING LOT NEAR MADISON SQUARE GARDEN, 12 AM SHARP. DO NOT WARN OR TRY TO NOTIFY AUTHORITIES.**

Along with the text was a picture of the parking lot he was to meet. Lance sighed and rocked on his chair for a brief moment. What was it again that got him into this mess? Oh yes, the most typical thing he could ever receive. Getting relentlessly chased and murdered if he refused. They only calmed down when he said he would get the timetable. Why couldn’t they get one of their gangsters on the inside to sneak in and steal it themselves? That’s just lazy of them.

Lance decided to take his mind off the pressure and browsed the news website. So far nothing special, other than a Daily Bugle report on yesterday’s dramatic robbery stopped by Spider-Man with one of the robbers identified as Zeke Afron. Lance eventually sighed deeply and stood up. He walked out of the offices and headed off. During his way out, he had to throw off a curious female officer and make up a lie about the chief asking him to retrieve documents to the Sergeant. After a long painful way out, Lance finally arrived at a room where the hallway was mostly empty. He briefly looked around cautiously before entering the room where above the door was a sign, engraved with “Private Access”. Lance was pretty certain this was where the timetable is.

* * *

The bell had just rung, signaling the end of the day and Miles was already on his way back to his dorm room. Ganke was staying back for further study so Miles went back by himself. He was starting to get tired as he made through the hallway. Not that he didn’t like school, he was just tired after waking up early. Three hours early.

He arrived at his dorm room and dropped his bag next to the bunk, landing near a sack of paint cans. As he slipped his blazer off, Miles heard a tap behind him. He spun around and saw a white gloved hand knocking on the window. Miles approached the window and reached to the slide when suddenly, Gwen appeared in front of him out of nowhere. 

“Hi Miles.”

Miles shrieked before covering his mouth. He couldn't tell whether she noticed his high pitched shriek due to the mask although the eyes do make an expression. As he lowered his hand down, his mouth forced a sheepish grin. “Uh, hey. Um…”

“Mind if I come in?” She asked.

For a second, his face looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Shortly, he managed to snap out of it.

“Y-yeah, sure. Just let me open the window.”

He opened the slide of the window and watched as Gwen crawled inside and outstretched her leg onto a desk.

“So...what brings you here today?” Miles asked.

She got off the desk and removed her mask, also letting down her hood as well. “Just dropping in to say hi.”

“You already did.”

“Well, hi again.”

Miles chuckled and threw the jacket onto Ganke’s bed. For some reason, her smile kind of made his brain blow up like fireworks, it’s driving him crazy. But they were just friends, right?

“Kinda weird for you to drop by at this time,” Miles said, closing the window while focusing on Gwen. “I mean, it's not like I got a bunch of homework today.”

“So you’re not happy to see me?” Gwen tilted her head, curiously.

_Panic mode intensifies._

“Wha- no! No, no, of course not! I-I do wanna see you! I just-”

“Chill, Miles. I’m just messing with you.”

Miles blushed in an embarrassed manner and rubbed the back of his head. Gwen giggled, finding him quite adorable when it came to being nervous. It took awhile for Miles to get a grip.

“So how're things back home?” He asked, lowering his hand.

“Pretty good if you ask me,” Gwen replied. “City’s safe again, being a bit more open with other people at school and...yeah. That’s about it. What about you?”

“I was gonna say that.”

The two laughed and calmed down shortly. There was a glimpse of the sunset as the two stood awkwardly in silence.

“Anyways, wanna go out and swing around town? Maybe get some burgers?” Gwen asked.

“Love to but…I gotta get some rest today. Feeling really tired. Maybe tomorrow?”

She nodded. “I can do tomorrow night.”

Miles grinned. “Great! I'll give you a text. So...see you then?”

“Looking forward to it, Spider-Man.”

Gwen patted Miles’ shoulder and turned away. Miles watched as she hopped out through the window. There was a warp from below and the only noise left was the honking cars and the chirping birds from the bottom. All he could do was smile and this time, it was more natural and genuine.

* * *

Lance left the house 20 minutes earlier before the midnight strike. He didn’t eat anything for the past three hours other than a piece of apple. He walked up to the curb where his personal white Volvo was and got inside. Before he started the car, Lance double checked the reprinted and stapled timetable for the fifth time before placing it beside his seat. Taking a deep breath, he turned on the ignition and the car sped off to the meeting.

As he drove down the highway, he took that time to prepare himself. They asked him to meet on the fourth floor of the parking lot which the height parred with the Madison Square Garden. After a 10 minute drive, he arrived at the parking lot which overlooked a building and the stadium in front of it. Along the way, the entire block was somehow empty, like a ghost town other than a flock of birds screeching in the air.

Lance entered the parking lot via the ramp and navigated through the dark floors. He stopped at the fourth floor and the car’s headlights flicked off. The parking lot was really dark and bleak, he couldn’t see a thing. The lights were cut off for whatever reason.

Lance decided to get out and hopped out of the car while taking the papers with him. He walked forward, in front of his car and looked around. The floor appeared to look empty if it wasn’t an illusion. Did he arrive too early? Lance checked his phone for the time. 11:59.

As soon as he turned the phone off, engine noise was heard from below which made Lance jump. From a distance, he saw glowing headlights looming from the ramp. Two black Range Rovers approached where Lance was along with a Chevrolet and a BMW sedan from behind. All of the cars parked in front of Lance in a straight fashion and the headlights shined towards his eyes which bloomed in his face.

Shortly, the engine cut off and the doors opened. A group of soldiers stepped out, armed with SMGs and pistols. All of them appeared to have black jackets with hoods over their scarves, making them look like ninjas but modernized.

They walked towards Lance and stood in front of the cars, forming a semi-circle around him. One of them opened the door of the BMW and another person got out. The soldiers cocked their weapons, ready to shoot on sight. Lance gulped as he looked across them.

< Stand down. > _(Translated from Japanese)_ A voice ordered.

The soldiers lowered their weapons and made way for the voice. The man completely stood out, compared to those ninja like soldiers. His blazer had rolled up sleeves, revealing full tattoos on his arm along with driving gloves. The hair was slicked to the right like it was done with gel. He went up to Lance with an unsettling smirk, who was still shaken up.

”Relax, Mr. Lance,” the man assured. He had a surprisingly fluent accent. “They’re just a little… dedicated with their job.”

Lance nodded nervously. “Uh, yeah. O-okay. I’m guessing you must be Mister?”

“My people call me Masai. But I'm certain you won't need to remember. Now, do you have what we requested?”

“Y-yeah, I got it right here.”

Lance held up the timetable. Masai nodded sideways and one of the hooded soldiers approached Lance. The soldier snatched the timetable and handed it to Masai.

“I-is everything good?” Lance stammered.

There was a long pause from Masai as he flipped over the page. By the time he finished reading, he looked up with the smirk wiped off.

“Were you followed?” He asked.

Lance shook his head in response. He bared his eyes shut, bracing for whatever doom may come for him. Lance slightly opened his eyes and noticed Masai’s smirk again. The soldiers beside him stood in dead silence without a flinch.

“Good,” Masai said. “There will be a gift for you once you return home. Or maybe earlier.”

After that, he was allowed to leave with no exceptions. Lance went back to his car and reversed his way out of the parking lot while the soldiers stared at him in an uncomfortable manner. Shortly, Lance disappeared from the ramp which still didn’t prompt the soldiers to do anything.

As the Volvo drove down to the ground floor, Lance steered right and headed out of the parking lot. He had deeply hoped those Japanese gangsters would leave him alone after this. This was the only thing he agreed to do. He didn’t want to go any further after tonight. However, Lance pondered on what they meant by a “gift” once he returned home.

For the next minute in silence, Lance was already seconds away from the Madison Square Garden. As he did so, mysterious headlights loomed from an alleyway he passed. The road in front of him was closed off so he took a right as instructed from a sign in front of him. He approached a junction road with the traffic lights off. As soon as Lance drove past the crossing path, something stopped in his tracks.

A black Cadillac SUV halted in front of him from the side of the road and a grey van skidded from the opposite side. Lance hit the pedal and reversed backwards, only to be pushed back by another SUV from behind. Hooded soldiers with DD MK18 rifles jumped out from each vehicle and stepped towards the Volvo. Lance ducked down as the soldiers opened fire, shooting from all sides and popping out several of its wheels. Windows cracked and sprinkled out onto the road and inside the car.

After what felt like an hour, one of them with sunglasses raised a fist and everybody ceased fire. The remaining sounds left after the deafening shots were the running engines. The soldiers approached the bullet-ridden car and stood around it. The one with sunglasses opened the door which hung off and the cop's body slipped out of the car. He pulled him out by the collar and dragged him off, dropping him in the middle of the road. His body was nothing but filled with bullet holes on both sides from his head to the stomach.

Afterwards, he dialed up a number from his phone and held it to his half faced scarf while holding the rifle upwards. As he did so, the soldiers carried the cop's body into the grey van. Eventually, the caller picked up.

< Is it done? > the voice, belonging to Masai asked.

< Loose end has been taken care of. > the man confirmed.

Shortly, he hung up and went back to their vehicles where the other soldiers were waiting. They wasted no time and took off from the scene of the crime, all going their separate ways. All that's left was the completely destroyed Volvo stranded in the middle of nowhere. Spider-Man's got plenty to answer by the time he wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At last, it is finished! I would like to apologize for posting this late(trust me, I wanted to finish it by last month). I've written a lot of scenes that didn't satisfy me, which is kinda the reason why I couldn't finish it earlier, especially the dialogue and characterization. Ugh, so damn hard!
> 
> Also, the first two chapters will go through some heavy rewrites so the next chapter can flow through properly, story-wise. Next chapter won't be out until I finish the rewrites although I will get working on it.

After another day of school finished, Miles and Ganke stayed in their dorm room for the night. As Miles laid on the bed, against the pillow with a laptop on his lap, Ganke was running some sort of simulation while that loud rap song was blaring from his headphones which Miles can still hear from here. His desk also had a half-empty cup of noodles and two presumably empty cans of energy drinks.

Miles clicked on a video which had a caption “SPIDERMAN STOPS BODEGA ROBBERY” in full caps. He still retained vague memories of it since last month. It was pretty fun although he had to go to the hospital and avoid taking his mask off. The video showed Miles taking on a group of robbers holding up a bodega shop. There was some loud chatter behind the camera. After a few seconds, the robbers ended up webbed to a light pole and Miles swung away, only to be hit by not one but two drones. At the same time, he noticed the description was typed “and then gets hit by two drones!”. Pretty much explains why he paid a visit to the hospital with bruises on his body.

_Do the drones have some sort of personal vendetta against me?_

After reading some of the comments with half of them about memes and the other half actually thanking him and showing concern for his safety, Miles clicked out of the tab and noticed something that caught his attention. Underneath the Backrub logo and the empty bar, he clicked on an image which brought him to a news article. The heading typed:

**Missing officer’s car found in East River with bullet holes.**

He read the article with haste and curiosity.

_Officer Perry Lance, 39, was reported missing blah blah blah, car found with bullet holes, blah blah blah…_

Immediately bored, Miles shut his laptop and got his phone out, tapping onto the messaging app. He swiped up to Gwen’s chat box and typed:

_hey gwen u free tonight?_

After he sent the text, he waited and checked the time on his phone. 7:35 in the evening. He’s got a few amounts of homework, compared to yesterday but he’s pretty optimistic about finishing them up after the hangout (if she agrees). Shortly, he got a reply from her:

_yeah, same spot?_

Miles quickly typed up a response and set his laptop aside. He got off his bunk and began to stuff his jacket and his track pants into his backpack before bending down over to Ganke’s bed, looking for his suit.

“Going out?” Ganke said without looking back. His tone seemed unsurprised as if he was aware.

“Yep.” Miles simply replied.

Shortly, he found his suit and quickly got out of his clothes before proceeding to change into his suit. He proceeded to dump his t-shirt into his backpack. As he slipped on his mask, he felt a buzz in his pants and took it out. Gwen had replied with this:

_see u there, miles_

Grinning behind the mask, he slung the bag over his shoulders and hopped out of the window, swinging towards the city where the violet dusk overlooked the horizon.

* * *

 

Scarlet balanced the coin on his right gloved hand as it rolled across his fingers before catching it and throwing it onto his left hand. He repeated the pattern, catching the coin back and forth. It wasn’t usual for Hammerhead to work with some shady Yakuza who suddenly came out from hiding just to hire them once Fisk was arrested. Hell, it wasn’t usual for them to start providing them cash and supplies for their fronts covering up for the Maggia’s drug operations and legitimate ‘businesses’. They could be right to question their motives but for now, it’s best to play along.

The drugs were made as part of the deal with The Hand. They first started off with bringing drugs in exchange for more cash and supplies for their businesses. God knows what they were using them for. Now it seemed like they’re stepping up their game and asking for counterfeit drugs for whatever “project” they had in mind. Sounds like cheap cash grab in his opinion.

They were waiting at some abandoned docks away from the prowling eyes. Said it was no man’s land, not even law enforcement dare to go anywhere near that place. According to The Hand, this place closed down twenty-five years ago due to the discovery of ‘supernatural beings’ which led to the shut down of the docks.

He continued his coin tricks while sitting cross-legged on top of a grey Chevy Blazer that had the engine running. Between him were two fellow gangsters. Both of them were smoking. They were said to be ex-military, despite not seeing any skill being demonstrated at all. Either they were frauds or they just prefer this job for the paycheck.

“Sir?” The black, bald guy with a grey suit and a t-shirt said. “You sure we’re meant to be down here? I hear rumors about scary shit happening down here.”

“I’m sure a ghost story isn't gonna scare a man like you.” Scarlet replied, without looking at the gangster.

“Well, I’m just a little nervous, sir. I know you are practically as hard as nails. Not even the sight of Spider-Man or that large ass Goblin scare ya.”

“It’s part of a program. I was made to be ‘hard as nails’. Spider-Man may have the brains and the brawn but he’s only a man with a mask.”

Shortly, he noticed the dim headlights from a distance began to close in. He counted three pairs. Scarlet caught the coin between his fingers and slipped it into his blazer pocket. Slipping off the truck, his boots landed on the pavement made of tiny rocks as it scraped and scratched the dirt. His accomplices slowly followed Scarlet as he stood in front of the truck.

“Get the bags ready.” He ordered.

The bearded gangster in a blue suit and a black shirt went up to the boot of the car. He came back with three large and heavy duffel bags packed with drugs and placed them next to Scarlet.

The headlights arrived, flashing like very blinding floodlights. The shadow dispersed very quickly as the lights shone on Scarlet’s face who didn’t flinch while the others held their hand in front of their eyes. Doors began to open. Shortly, the headlights flicked off and standing right in front of them was a line of figures in all-black with hoods and scarves, concealed by the looming shadows. The headlights from their vehicles only reached near them. Two SUVs and a delivery truck were present behind the figures.

One of them approached Scarlet. He listened to the shoes clop on the stones of the terrain. The figure stopped a few feet in front of Scarlet and his shadow covering his face dispersed. He was as tall as him, his face was narrow and his hair was slicked to the right, resembling an Asian Peter Parker. His red bandana was wrapped around his mouth. Silence filled the empty void. The man looked down to his feet, where the bags were.

“This the latest stock?” He asked, with as much emotion as a bored priest.

“All manufactured with the requested materials and ingredients.” Scarlet replied.

“Let me see.”

Without a word, Scarlet bent down and picked up one of the bags. He pried the bag open, showing the drugs packed into zip lock bags and stuffed in altogether. The man looked at the goods and after a moment of silence, he looked back at Scarlet.

“It’s all to our expectations. We’ll take care of the rest.” The man said.

Scarlet made no reaction other than stare just like the blank expression his mask wore. The man snapped his fingers and several hooded figures appeared, collecting the bags. One of them came back with a large bag.

“As promised,” The man said as he took the bag from the figure. The bag was already open, containing large bundles of cash. “The payment and the supplies. Everything shipped and smuggled from our partners is in the truck, keys included.”

Dropping the bag next to Scarlet’s feet, the man turned away and let out an order. The figures disappeared completely in the shadows and the SUVs light up except the truck. Scarlet watched in silence as the cars reverse away from them and drive off into the bleak night.

“Huh, that was quicker than I thought.” The black guy commented.

“Yeah, no doubt. They seem to be in a hurry.” The other gangster said.

“And it’s none of our concern,” Scarlet added. “Take the truck, Hux. We’re heading back.”

The bearded gangster complied and went up to the truck while Scarlet grabbed the bag containing the cash before catching up to the black guy in the car. Without any order, the truck split from the group and the SUV drove off in the opposite direction, just to avoid suspicion.

* * *

 

Sometime in the evening, Miles sat on the edge of a rooftop which he and Gwen would regularly meet. It was a recently renovated apartment that finished last month, remaking the old rundown building. He recently texted her, confirming her arrival around 8 o'clock, enough time to go for a night swing in the city and grab something to eat.

While waiting for her arrival, Miles took out his phone and browsed through his photos. He tapped on the photo that showed a tagged artwork with a blooming purple rose sprayed in the middle, along with vibrant and lively colors combined in one piece. He had to say he was proud of it. Miles didn’t have a name for that art but he would call it “Bloom” for the time being.

As Miles swiped through some of his other photos, he heard a cry for help below the building from beside. Miles slipped his phone into his pockets and went up to the noise source. In the most typical place for privacy - the alleyway - was a woman getting ganged up by four guys. One of them was holding her against the wall while the others watched him do so. Miles was familiar with the stories of rape and all that stuff, this was just standard rape-ish stuff. But at least there was something Miles could do to pass the time.

Slipping on his mask, he jumped off the rooftop, feeling the weight of the backpack lifting him as he fell. Miles landed in the middle of the alleyway where the group bolted their attention away from the woman and to him. One thing Miles noticed was that each of them have dark jeans that sit on the top of their shoes.

“You guys ever heard of respecting a woman’s space?” Miles asked.

The blonde guy with tattoos on his left bicep and a maroon t-shirt charged after him with a fist trained at Miles. He wanted to question his thoughts on the fact he decided to go at him with a punch straight forward.

“Alright, guess not.” Miles said as he dodged Blondie’s punch.

He swung a fist again but this time, Miles grabbed his fist with his left hand and used his free hand to jab his stomach. Blondie let out a cough of air. Miles then swung a punch across his face, sending him slamming against a wall on the side.

The rest of the group ignored the woman and rushed at Miles, determined to fight. He was ready for whatever they got. Miles stepped onto the guy with a Red Sox shirt’s leg and kicked his chin upwards while flipping back away from him, landing in a crouch like pose with one leg outstretched to the left and his other leg bent tightly. As Red Sox staggered off, the guy with the camo t-shirt lunged at him blindly. Miles leaped off his feet and kicked him away. As the thug staggered off, Miles webbed him to the wall where he let out a loud ‘oof’ as he slammed against it.

Suddenly, his senses hissed and he looked to his left where he saw Red Sox and the guy in a purple track jacket with yellow stripes charging at him. Miles ducked under the fist Trackie swung and punched him in the face, pushing him back and kicked Red Sox in the gut before performing a back kick, knocking him off balance. He noticed Trackie lunge himself at him with a fist directed at him. Miles blocked his first punch and once he made his second attack, he grabbed Trackie by his arm and heaved him onto his shoulder. He lifted the thug up effortlessly and threw him off behind him. The thug rolled onto the grainy pavement with a grunt.

Miles then shifted his focus back on Red Sox charging at him head on, just like every other thug. He shot a line of web at the thug’s chest and yanked him closer. Once he was near him, Miles flung at him with a straight kick to his body. The thug flew off and crumpled in a heap with his legs sprawled.

His spider senses went off from behind and Miles leaned sideways, away from a blade going past his shoulder. He turned around and was faced with Trackie again but this time, he had a pocket knife tightly gripped in his right hand.

“Okay, we’re fighting with knives now. I can go with that.” He quipped. He also couldn’t help but notice a cross tattoo on his neck. It looked really cool but not as neat as the other tattoos he saw from previous thugs.

Miles leaned away from a swipe for his throat and once he thrusted the knife at him, he dodged and webbed his face before he had the time to move away. He let out a curse through the webbing. As he struggled to remove the webs, Miles kicked his knife off him and quickly webbed him up to his legs until he was completely stuck in this weird position - one hand tightly held to his webbed face with his other arm to the side. Miles then shot a line of web on a rusty neon sign above and hooked the end to the thug’s shoulders, lifting him off the surface and leaving him dangling on the sign.

Suddenly, his senses went off from his right and Miles leaned over the source of the tingling. He flipped over, just in time to notice Blondie somehow awake and desperate. As Miles landed gracefully, a familiar thug halted where he had just jumped over and spun around. His face now had a small bruise chalked from his right cheek to the jawline.

The thug charged at him with his pipe raised before Miles’ senses could even beat him to it. He narrowingly dodged a swing from him, not ready for whatever he had in mind. At this point, Blondie was swinging at the wall-crawler like a mad man, shouting whenever he swung. That must’ve explained his tattoos and his muscular build.

Miles looked around and caught a glimpse of a damaged drone left in the corner of the garbage. He caught it with a web line and flung the drone at the thug. The drone hit him near the face, causing him to flinch and shift away from Miles.  _Take that, drone!_ His pipe lowered to his upper torso as he rubbed his face. Miles took that chance and got closer. He webbed the thug’s pipe away and let his right foot fly onto his face. The kick dazed him enough to lose focus and stumble towards the wall. Taking that chance, Miles webbed him up, attaching the thug to the wall.

There was no further movement afterward other than the faint muffles from the webbed up thugs dangling in the air. With that out of the way, it was time to check on the woman. Miles turned around and approached the woman, still standing against the wall.

“You alright? Did they hurt you?” He asked.

“N-no, it’s not that bad,” the woman said, trying to cover herself rubbing her arm. “Thanks, by the way. Those assholes have been on my tail for the past few days.”

“You know these guys?”

“Yeah, ever since I rejected Bryce at a bar one night, they stalked me constantly, nonstop. If it wasn’t him, then it would be his shitty friends. I tried to pass it off, pretending I didn’t know them but it only made things worse.”

Miles was a bit taken back by her story. “Wow. Guess they won't be able to touch you from here.”

The woman chuckled, brushing off a strand of her long fair hair. “Yeah, good riddance. Anyway, I better get going. I’m supposed to be at a friend’s house by now. Thanks again, Spider-Man.”

She began to walk out of the alleyway, relieved and calm. “Take care out there!” Miles called out as she disappeared past the wall, heels faintly trotting in a distance.

Once the footsteps fade away, Miles sighed and looked at the dangling thugs like a proud artist. Just one hour into the night and Miles took care of a group of thugs trying to pressure a woman against her will. Miles webbed his way back onto the rooftop and carried on with his phone for the rest of the time.

Shortly, he heard a warp from behind and turned around. Gwen came out of the portal with her suit on, along with a green backpack as well. Miles got off the ledge and went up to his friend, going for a handshake.

“Sorry I’m late,” Gwen said as her hands clamped onto Miles. “Got caught up with some thieves.”

“It’s alright, I took care of some thugs as well.” He replied.

They both let go and turned towards the city at the distance.

“Well, now that you’re here, what do you say we race to the Empire State?”

She let out a small hum. “Now you’re talking. Loser pays for the dinner!”

Just as she said it, Gwen swung off from the building, leaving Miles to a slow start. He could picture that smug grin on her face as she catapulted away from him.

“Hey! I haven’t even started counting!” Miles shouted as he tried to catch up to the white-clad figure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and kudos and comments appreciated(unless I somehow disabled the comments)!

**Author's Note:**

> First time posting on AO3. Might look a bit messy but hopefully it gets better. This story's going to be crime influenced so...yeah.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
